


In the Blood

by Goethicite



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, Parental Legacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goethicite/pseuds/Goethicite
Summary: It's not in Omera's blood to run from a fight.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	In the Blood

“Where did you learn to shoot?” he asks. It helps her aching heart that he doesn’t sound like Buir. The Mandalorian hands Omera a cleaning kit and watches her field strip the rifle when she’s done. You always cleaned a weapon before putting it away.

“My father taught me,” she says though it had been her mother who taught her how to breathe. The Mandalorian looks around like he expects to see the man himself. “He died,” Omera answers his unspoken question. Then, because she won’t be ashamed of the truth, “He was a sergeant in the Special Operations Brigade of the Grand Army of the Republic.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence before the Mandalorian asks, “What was his designation?”

“Alpha-Four-Seven, his name was Scope,” Omera says lifting her chin slightly. “My mother was his unit’s commander.”

“Jedi don’t get married,” he says flatly.

Omera narrows her eyes. “She gave up that life to be with him. She loved my father more than the stars.” More than her duty. More than her own daughter and grandchild. When her father had died, an old man in body not in years, her mother had followed within the day.

The Mandalorian looks at her for a long moment though she only knows it from her sixth sense. “When they come, the others will want to run. You can’t let them.”

“And I won’t want to?” Omera asks not bothering to hide how much his dismissal of her mother had stung.

“It’s not in your blood,” he says evenly. “On either side.” His gauntleted hand rests heavily on her shoulder making her breath catch with the familiarity of the weight. “Make sure they hold.”

“‘Lek, alor,” Omera says using her father’s words to her mother. He squeezes once before letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I the only one who thought Omera was going to pull out an old DC-15 blaster rifle and some white plastoid armor when she raised her hand as the only one who knew how to shoot?
> 
> 'lek, alor. - Yes, leader. ('Yes, sir.' in this context)


End file.
